


The Little Arsonist

by jinxkittycat



Series: SSO Wild West AU [1]
Category: SSO - Fandom, sso Wild West AU - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 08:01:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13876617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinxkittycat/pseuds/jinxkittycat
Summary: Little Zoe Starr, driven by a blind rage and desire for revenge, acts on impulse to avenge the murder of her "mother".





	The Little Arsonist

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Act I: The Disreputables](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13766259) by [Burgie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burgie/pseuds/Burgie), [ClaraDiamondsong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaraDiamondsong/pseuds/ClaraDiamondsong), [clightlee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clightlee/pseuds/clightlee), [copperheadpony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/copperheadpony/pseuds/copperheadpony), [eyeskillercold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyeskillercold/pseuds/eyeskillercold), [NumiTuziNeru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NumiTuziNeru/pseuds/NumiTuziNeru), [Shadowlord13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowlord13/pseuds/Shadowlord13), [SwimmingTiger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwimmingTiger/pseuds/SwimmingTiger), [ZDusk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZDusk/pseuds/ZDusk), [Zebrablanket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zebrablanket/pseuds/Zebrablanket). 



> Trigger warnings: parent death, arson, burns, horse death
> 
> (Yes, I'm the literal worst )

A twelve year old girl, stricken with fear and sorrow stood just four hundred yards from what remained of her home. Flames danced in the reflection of her eyes as she watched the roof burn and tumble into the dusty ground with a plume of black smoke to follow. Tears rolled down her pale cheeks. 

From within the barn came a frantic and panicked mare, a painted mustang of cream and coffee colors. The girl let out of breath of relief before anxiously awaiting the appearance of more figures. None came. 

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Her mother should have been out by then. She'd followed instructions, running far from the home with what belongings she could carry. A small box of pictures and a pistol, a suitcase of some of her mother’s mostly worldly possessions, and a stuffed cat that she couldn't resist grabbing from her bed before it caught fire. Her mother said she'd join her as soon as the horses were freed. 

Another minute passed and her mother still hadn't exited. She considered her options: run to her mother's aid and risk her own life, or run to town and seek help. She knew the latter was futile. The townsfolk already hated them, and were more than likely the cause of all this. She dropped her things and ran head first towards the barn. To the girl’s misfortune, she hardly made it to the doors before the entire thing collapsed in front of her. The loud crash and roar of fire made her fall backwards. At that point she could do nothing more than look upon the fate of her mother. There was nothing she could do. She could feel it in her heart and soul that she was gone, and nothing would bring her back. 

The girl crawled away from the wreck, struggling to breath with the smoke that surrounded her. She finally managed to walk to her things, and began to sob. Falling to her knees she cried and cursed and screamed out into the night. She fell asleep there in the dirt, clutching her possessions and letting her tears fall to the ground. 

In the morning she awoke to the sound of a soft whinny. Above her was the mustang that escaped. She was her mother’s most dependable horse, and arguably the girl’s favorite. The girl began to cry again at the sight of her. Up she came from the ground and pressed herself against the horse in a tight hug. Looking back at the wreckage, she saw that the flames had died down, leaving blackened wood and ash blowing in the morning winds. After gathering her things, she carefully led the horse back in hopes of salvaging anything she could find. 

There wasn't much. Here and there a tin box with cookies could be found in secret hiding places, candleholders that were still warm to the touch, pieces of leather workings left behind by the girl’s grandfather. She snatched these up as she saw them, burns and all. Otherwise not much else could be found. Nothing that was portable anyway.

She saved the barn for last, knowing that once she went in there, nothing could be unseen.

With a deep breath, she walked towards the barn. The sight made her need to fight off tears. The battle was useless. She didn't even need to get that close to see the burned bodies of the horse. And her mother. It was traumatizing. 

With desperation the girl hauled the remains of support beams off of her mother’s lifeless body. She held her mother’s head on her lap and sobbed. She sobbed for what seemed like hours, until the sun was high above her in the sky, beginning its descent into night. After then she sat emotionless. Carefully, she positioned her mother comfortably in the spot. 

After that? She set out to work. 

The girl found a charred shovel and searched for a good spot of land that had soft soil. She dug well into the night, the pit laying at around five feet deep. She lined the bottom and sides with burnt pieces of wood. With some difficulty, she had to drag her mother’s body to the pit and roll it in. Covering the body with some more planks, she continued to push the dirt back in the hole. 

That night she rummaged up a saddle that wasn't too terribly ruined and hitched up her stuff onto Luna, the painted mustang. With a face of steel she rode towards the town, watching carefully as people made their way back to their homes. 

She tied her mustang well away, out of sight and out of range. It was almost like something had overcome her. A deep passion. A desire for revenge. 

The girl walked past dimmed windows and locked doors. She stopped at the church, looking up at the ghastly designed building. It was gaudy, and reaked of bullshit. She turned back and headed for the general store. Clever as she was she managed to break her way in undetected. She grabbed expensive cases of gunpowder and a box of matches. She methodically made her way back around town, leaving behind a trail of the black powder. She left the church for last. 

Once there she forced herself in just as she'd done in the general store. Her face contorted in disgust at the horrible images on the walls. The townsfolk thought this art? It was horrifying. Grotesque images of the slaughter of natives. Bloody gore filled scenes that the townspeople took pride it. It made her sick to her stomach. She lined the pews with powder before leaving. Calmly, she walked outside and once again faced the church. With one, swift movement, a match was lit and thrown into the beginning of a long line of the explosive powder. Within seconds she methodical path was alight, along with the town. 

She walked away from the town without looking back, setting off on her mare into the night without a trace of regret.


End file.
